The next great adventure
by Possum132
Summary: The absolute end of the series that begins with Snape never eats here, thank God. The three half bloods finally come face to face in the reactor containment building at Sizewell B, where the Muggles possess a power greater than magic.
1. Severus Snape

**The next great adventure**

_If you're wondering how Snape ended up eating out of Harry's hand, you will have to read the whole of the series, because it's been a very long journey for both of them._

_I ummed and aahed over ending the series this way, but was encouraged by the highly esteemed BAGGE's "Destruction of his own making"._

**Chapter 1: Severus Snape**

Harry had cooked breakfast as he always did, Muggle-fashion, with a frying pan and grill, because while Spinner's End is warded to hide magic every use of magic requires the wards to be replenished - and Arthur Weasley's Muggle-mania hadn't rubbed off on his kids, Ronald and Ginevra Weasley could barely strike a match, and the Muggle-born Granger didn't seem able to so much as boil an egg without an instruction manual. And although he, Severus Snape, normally breakfasted only on tea and toast, he'd picked at the bacon and eggs, because it would have been rude to refuse the plate that Harry had passed to him, and it's a trick that every kid knows, cut the food up into small pieces and push it around a bit, make it look as if you've eaten at least some of it.

The grubby little kitchen had been hopelessly crowded with five people, two owls and Granger's orange monster of a cat – the beast was enormous, and part-Kneazle, if he was any judge – and he'd thought, it's like another frigging Order meeting, a roomful of bloody Gryffindors ...

At Order meetings he'd stuck close to the Headmaster and then got the hell out of 12 Grimmauld Place as soon as the meeting was over, so he'd just inched his chair a little closer to Harry, and watched Ginny Weasley feeding bacon rinds to her boyfriend's Snowy Owl. There's a hard edge to beautiful, talented, spirited Ginny Weasley and if he didn't know about the prophecy, if he didn't know that Harry Potter shares his soul with the Dark Lord, he'd have picked Ginny as the more likely of the pair to have what it takes to bring down the Dark Lord – and Ginny Weasley has her own history with the Dark Lord, her own reasons to hate the snake-eyed bastard. He'd shivered a little at that thought – because that's one abomination the Dark Lord has never committed against him, the Dark Lord has never possessed him, never walked in his body ...

Weasley's hyperactive little owl had started zooming around his head, he'd been irritated beyond endurance so he'd snatched it out of the air and passed it to Weasley – told him that he'd put a Freezing Charm on the creature if he couldn't keep it under control, and enjoyed the glare he'd got in reply. Looking into Ron Weasley's mind was like watching goldfish in a bowl, as one idea after another swam slowly across what passed as a mind, and he'd sneered to himself, get over it, Weasley, get over it - Harry Potter trusts me, he _trusts_ me.

In Granger's mind, on the other hand, a dozen thoughts dart around constantly like a shoal of minnows - and he'd been disgusted, she admires his courage! For all her brains, Hermione Granger is still a typical simple-minded Gryffindor, she doesn't understand hatred, she doesn't understand _revenge_ – and he's determined to be revenged on the Dark Lord, for Lily's death, and for Dumbledore's, and he'd thought, even if Harry Potter had been Sorted into Slytherin, I would still be his man, I would still do whatever needs to be done to fulfil the prophecy ...

He'd been glad when the breakfast things had been cleared away and he could smoke, because when you've got a two pack a day habit, thirty minutes is a long time to go without a fag, and today is D-Day, as the Muggles would say, Destruction of Horcruxes day, and they need to go over the plan one more time - and take their potassium iodide tablets, because magic and radioactivity don't mix. It's not the heat that will destroy the locket and the cup - it's only a few hundred degrees inside the reactor, not even close to the melting point of gold – it's the radioactivity, and that the Muggles have a power greater than magic isn't something they teach in Muggle Studies, or that the Ministry is prepared to share with the Muggle Prime Minister.

If Alastor Moody, Mr Constant Vigilance himself, hadn't been stupid enough to get himself caught and killed, it would have been a piece of cake, they'd have put some of the Muggles who work at the Sizewell B reactor under _imperio_ and given them the job of shoving the Horcruxes into a fuel rod - but Harry Potter doesn't use the Unforgiveables, the Chosen One will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and maybe it's Muggle stuff, Harry is a Muggle-raised half-blood and the Dark Lord must be a pure-blood ...

For a moment he'd imagined Harry holding the muzzle of the gun that he'd given him against the Dark Lord's temple and pulling the trigger, imagined the Dark Lord's brains splattering against a wall - because you don't need to hate someone to kill them with a Muggle gun, all you need to do is squeeze the trigger - but it could be something else, even love, as the Headmaster had thought, because the Dark Lord certainly doesn't love anyone, the Dark Lord hadn't blinked at the news that poor deluded, devoted Bellatrix Lestrange was dead, and then he'd pushed the thought away, because he doesn't worry any more about how the prophecy that's ruled his life for seventeen years will be fulfilled. And it will be fulfilled, one way or another, the Dark Lord must know what Harry Potter is - even though he doesn't know the whole of the prophecy the Dark Lord must know how dangerous Harry is – and he'll kill Harry if he can, Harry Potter is for the Dark Lord alone because he'd never allow a mere servant to destroy one of his precious Horcruxes.

And by the end of the day all of the Horcruxes, save one, will be destroyed – Merlin willing. It's his job to deal with Nagini, and the Gryffindors' job to deal with Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup, and the plan has been timed to the minute, he's even taken them to Sizewell B for a dry run. They can't Apparate into the reactor complex itself, because it's not a pretty sight when a wizard Apparates into a solid object and Apparation inside a building that you don't know well isn't for beginners – he could do it, he's studied the plans carefully enough, but they can't, they've only just learned to Apparate. So they'll Apparate to the car park at Sizewell B, materialize discreetly behind a bus, and mingle with the Muggles taking the visitors' tour.

The Muggles are proud of their new nuclear power station, capable of generating three per cent of Britain's electricity needs, they actually let the public swarm all over it, even into the reactor containment building, but that's only one target; Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley will need to get into the reactor control room to activate the fuel rod assembly, and the know-it-all is the only one of them he'd trust to follow the instructions he'd extracted – gently, because Harry Potter has a soft spot for Muggles – from the Muggle technician, because the control room is a mass of flashing lights and computer screens, it looks like the inside of a fricking space-ship ... and it's a non-standard procedure, too, the Muggles close the reactor down before they change the fuel rods, but they need the reactor to be going full blast to deal with the Horcruxes.

He'd looked at the clock – it was time the kids were on their way, they've got to walk all the way down the hill to the smelly river-bank to get to the Apparation point – and nodded a curt farewell, but Harry had insisted on shaking his hand, wishing him luck ... and when will Harry Potter learn to guard his thoughts, when will Harry Potter learn to close his mind? He'd been a little bit rattled when he looked into those green eyes, Harry Potter actually cares about him, Harry is _afraid_ for him ... and it's a pity that Lily's son has to look so much like his father, except for that lightning-shaped scar and his mother's eyes - because that twat James Potter was never good enough for Lily Evans, not that he'd ever say so to Harry, what was the point of upsetting the kid? And James has been dead for sixteen years, anyway ...

Then he'd sat out on the back steps for an hour, next to the pile of empty pizza boxes, idly enjoying the very last of the summer sunshine and chain-smoking, waiting until it was time to leave, until the destruction of the locket and the cup must be well underway, and it was time for his part in the plan – and that's simplicity itself, all he has to do is to Apparate to the Dark Lord's side and kill the snake Horcrux. And when Nagini is dead, his duty is done and he can please himself - and he never thinks beyond that, there's just a black curtain, with nothing, no future, beyond it. And he won't be coming back from this mission, you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside the building that the Dark Lord is using as his headquarters, once he's killed the snake he's a dead man. Big deal, he's been a dead man walking since the return of the Dark Lord ...

He'd stubbed out his cigarette and remembered what Dumbledore had said once, _to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure_ – he hadn't said anything at the time, but he'd wondered how many people the Headmaster had seen die, because most people who saw death coming sobbed or cursed or begged, even Dumbledore had begged, _Severus, please_, though Dumbledore hadn't been begging for his own life. Well, whatever death is, he'll be damned if he'd leave some pale, pitiful shadow of himself to encumber the earth, and that was one reason why he'd killed Pettigrew in his Animagus form, if Spinner's End was going to be haunted by the coward's ghost, he'd prefer it to be haunted by a ghost that couldn't talk.

When he'd walked into the Dark Lord's headquarters, there'd been the usual little crowd of courtiers waiting to be summoned into the presence, they'd scattered out of the way of the Dark Lord's favourite, and it couldn't have been easier because Nagini hadn't been with her master, she hadn't been in that dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles that he knows so well - she'd been in the anteroom, busy swallowing a rat. He'd sliced the snake into pieces with _Sectumsempra, for enemies_, and then without a word of threat or warning he'd turned on the gaping onlookers, looking for familiar faces – and Fenrir Greyback had been next. He'd pointed his wand straight between the eyes of the filthy stinking werewolf, the thing had dared to boast of how he'd threatened the Headmaster on the Astronomy Tower, _I could do you for afters_ - he'd cast the Killing Curse, and then he'd gone fighting-mad, and why not, every Death Eater he takes down is one less for Harry Potter to deal with. It had turned into a firefight, flashes of green and red light, shouts and screams, but nothing seemed to touch him, and he'd shouted the reckless, age-old challenge, "Come on, you cowards - do you want to live for ever?"

And then the wand had been torn out of his hand, he'd looked up and seen the Dark Lord with his wand raised – but he'd felt no fear because it will be over now, he's never seen the Dark Lord so enraged, the Dark Lord will tear him apart and it will be over.

But the Dark Lord hadn't killed him, and now he's on his knees, but he still doesn't feel any fear because the Dark Lord isn't his master any longer, he serves another now – but even so, he flinches away when the Dark Lord stretches out that pale hand with the unnaturally long fingers to him, places the palm under his chin and forces him to look up into that white face, the red-pupilled eyes and the nose as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils, the lipless mouth ...

For a moment he gathers his defences, braces himself against the coming assault on his mind, and then he thinks, defiantly, why not screw with the Dark Lord's head, show him the whole of the prophecy, show the Dark Lord exactly what he's coming up against? So he doesn't resist the frantic probing, lets the prophecy drift into his mind, the prophecy that the Headmaster had entrusted to him before he died, lets the Dark Lord see the memory of Sybill Trelawney's harsh, hoarse tones, _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..._

Now there's fear in that hideous simulacrum of a human face, fear as well as rage - and then he shows the Dark Lord something else, the white dome of the reactor containment building at Sizewell B, the Dark Lord will know what _that_ is, the Dark Lord knows very well that the Muggles wield a power that can destroy magic itself, that's one of the reasons why he hates them so much ...

Oh yes, there's fear and desperation in those red eyes, but now it's his turn to be afraid because he's let himself get carried away, he's shown the Dark Lord too much, shown him where to find Harry Potter - his left arm is burning like a white-hot poker, the Dark Lord is going to do to him what he did to Quirrell - he cries out in horror, and the familiar sensation of Apparation, of being squeezed through a thick rubber tube, is the last thing he knows before everything goes blank ...

When he comes back to himself, he's still on his knees, but he's kneeling in front of Harry Potter now, and Harry is OK, he looks fine, although there's something different about him - the scar has gone from his forehead - and it's all quite confusing, because there's green light everywhere, the whole world has turned green. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are bending over something on the ground, Ginny Weasley is standing with her wand out, a hard, blazing look on her face, but he doesn't pay much attention to them because Harry is speaking to someone, he looks back over his shoulder and he's mildly surprised to see the Dark Lord standing behind him, but the Dark Lord doesn't have his wand out, they're not duelling, they're talking. And although normally he would hesitate to interrupt his master, he has vital information to give Harry, the snake is dead ...

Harry tells the Dark Lord that the last of his Horcruxes has been destroyed, he can't quite understand what Harry is saying, but it seems that the prophecy wasn't so important, after all, and there doesn't seem to be any reason to be angry or frightened. And now the conversation is over, Harry has dismissed Voldemort – there was a reason why he was afraid to say that name, but he can't remember what it was – Harry is reaching down to help him to his feet, and telling him that it's over, time to go, and although he's not sure where they're going, there's nothing to hold him back, nothing he regrets leaving, and he knows, too, with absolute certainty, that if he is with Harry, everything is going to be all right.


	2. Harry Potter

**The next great adventure**

**Chapter 2: Harry Potter**

He'd cooked breakfast as he always did, Muggle-fashion, with a frying pan and grill - because while Spinner's End is warded to hide magic, every use of magic requires Snape to replenish the wards - and Arthur's interest in Muggles hadn't rubbed off on Ron and Ginny, they could barely strike a match, and Hermione needed a recipe book to boil an egg. There was no question of Snape cooking, the kitchen looked like it was mostly used as a potions lab, and from the pile of pizza boxes outside the back door, he'd got the impression that Snape wasn't the sort of bloke who cooked, he wasn't the sort of bloke who ate much, either – from what he could see, Snape mostly lived on firewhisky and cigarettes.

Nevertheless, he'd passed a plate of bacon, eggs and toast to Snape, and kept an eye on him to make sure that Snape at least picked at the food, but he was glad when the breakfast things had been cleared away, because the grubby little kitchen had been hopelessly crowded with five people, two owls and Crookshanks - and Ron and Snape crammed in together at close quarters was always a disaster. There were times when he felt like smacking the pair of them, Ron is his oldest friend, his friend since the day he'd first set foot on the Hogwarts Express, and Merlin knows he'd never claim that Severus Snape was a _friend_, but the prophecy makes a bond between them that is, if anything, stronger than friendship.

Today is the day that the Horcruxes will be destroyed – all save one, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny are totally OK about him being a Horcrux, of course it helped that Hermione had worked it out by herself, well before he could bring himself to tell them – and so for once he'd dared to think of the future, because the Hogwarts Express leaves from Platform Nine and Three-quarters tomorrow. Maybe one day when the prophecy has been fulfilled they might even go back to school and take their NEWTs, Hermione would like that, and one day she'll be the Minister for Magic, the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic ...

But then he'd had a sobering thought - what about Snape? Kreacher he could turn loose, give him clothes, let him go to Narcissa Malfoy, if that will make him happy, but how was he going to deal with Snape? And would anywhere in Britain ever be safe for the killer of Albus Dumbledore? He'd pushed the thought away, that's a problem they'll sort out when Voldemort is dead, and he's still not sure how he's going to manage that, he still has no idea what the power the Dark Lord knows not is – Snape had wondered if it was Muggle stuff, because you don't need to hate someone to kill them with a Muggle gun, all you need to do is squeeze the trigger. He'd realised then that Snape doesn't know that Voldemort is Tom Riddle, that Voldemort is a half-blood, and he'd kept his mouth shut, closed his mind – because it's better if Snape doesn't know just how much he's been deceived and manipulated by his Dark Lord, he's close enough to cracking up as it is ...

They'd run through the plan one last time, they Apparate to the car park at Sizewell B, materialize discreetly behind a bus, and mingle with the Muggles taking the visitors' tour. Hermione and Ron will head for the reactor control room, Hermione is the only one of them who's got any chance of being able to follow the instructions for operating the fuel rod assembly, because the control room is a mass of flashing lights and computer screens - it looks like the inside of a space-ship – and Ron is her back-up, it's his job to prevent the Muggles from interfering, with a stunning spell if necessary.

Getting into the control room shouldn't be a problem, they'll use the same charm that Dumbledore had used on Mrs Cole, Snape had explained how it worked, what a Muggle saw written on the blank piece of paper was whatever he or she needed to see. He'd thought, _Jedi mind powers!_ and he couldn't stop himself from raising his hand and solemnly intoning, "You don't need to see his identification," - and Snape had laughed at the joke, not sneered or smirked, but actually laughed, while Ron, Hermione and Ginny eyed them both suspiciously.

He and Ginny have a job to do in the reactor containment building, he'll be handling the Horcruxes personally because there's no way he's delegating a dangerous job like that, and Ginny will come with him to keep an eye on the Muggles. It should be pretty simple, really, all he has to do is cram the locket and the cup in amongst the tubes of uranium dio-something, watch the fuel rod sink back into the reactor vessel – a Muggle would need to wear protective gear but their magic will shield them from the radioactivity, for a couple of minutes anyway - check the temperature gauges, because the temperature will go through the roof once the Horcruxes start disintegrating, and then get out before the Muggles start swarming everywhere.

And he'd been pleased by how calm everyone was, they'd been less nervous than on the morning of an important Quidditch match, Gryffindor against Slytherin – forget that, if he ever goes back to school he'll be having a quiet chat with Minerva McGonagall about the Quidditch Cup, the game stirs up House rivalries like nothing else at Hogwarts, and it gets pretty ugly at times. Then he'd looked at the clock – it was time they were on their way, they've got to walk all the way down the hill to the smelly river-bank to get to the Apparation point – so he'd shaken Snape's hand, wished him good luck, and he hadn't tried to hide his feelings, Snape will be lucky to get out alive after he's killed the snake Horcrux, but he'd told himself that there's still a chance, Severus Snape is an exceptionally powerful and cunning wizard and if anyone can pull this off, it's Snape.

Snape's plan had gone like clockwork, and he knows that it's working, because the temperature gauges are going crazy, sirens are blaring, the Confundus Charm is wearing off the little group of Muggle technicians that Ginny is holding back at wand point, the Muggles are ashen-faced with terror, they're afraid that the whole thing is going to blow, another Windscale or Chernobyl, but nobody is going to get hurt - Snape had said that this is a pressurized water reactor and when the temperature goes up, the chain reaction will slow down, there's not going to be a bang or a fire – and Hermione and Ron have come running down from the control room to join them, it's time to clear out ...

Then through the wail of the sirens he can hear the crack of someone Apparating, Snape is striding towards him, and his heart leaps, Snape is OK - but something is wrong, because Snape is calling him "Master", Snape is kneeling at his feet – and Snape never calls him "Master", Snape calls him "Harry", unless they've had a spat about something, and then it's "Potter" ...

He looks down into those fathomless black eyes, those black eyes that had once reminded him of tunnels, empty and cold, but they're no longer empty, he can see the shadow of the snake behind the black eyes, a red-eyed serpent rearing to strike, and he can hear a voice crying out in terror ... and he _knows_.

And even as Snape - or the thing that possesses Snape's body - is sliding to his knees, Snape is plunging his hand into his robes, pulling out a wand, the wand is pointed at his forehead, straight between the eyes, straight at his scar ... and time has slowed down so much that it seems to stop - he's got plenty of time to think, plenty of time to see Ginny rushing forward, trying to get between them – and to reach out his right hand and push her away even as the green light bursts out of the wand in Snape's hand, because enough people have died trying to save him from Voldemort, enough people have stood between him and Voldemort, and now it's going to end.

Then the whole world turns green, and he knows that time has stopped, not just slowed down, Hermione and Ron are bending over something on the ground, Hermione has started to cry and Ron is looking stunned - but Ginny has that hard, blazing look on her face and her wand is in her hand, and he knows what she's done, what she's had to do, because if she hadn't killed Snape, Voldemort would have murdered all of them.

Now he's facing that tall, thin, black-hooded figure, and there's a look of triumph on the terrible snakelike face, but all he can think is, thank God I didn't become _that_, thank God Snape was there to prevent me from using the Killing Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange, I owe him my very soul ... and he finds himself saying the words aloud.

Snape is kneeling between them, Snape is looking bewildered but he'll be fine, although the sleeves of Snape's robes fall to the wrist he knows without looking that the Dark Mark has gone from Snape's arm, and Snape is telling him that the snake is dead ...

But he still has to deal with Tom Riddle - Riddle is jeering at him, "You fools who love! You haven't learned anything, Potter, since we first met - you still haven't learned that there is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. If you really wanted to kill me, you should have let the girl die for you, let her make her foolish sacrifice ..."

Riddle is gloating over the fulfilment of the prophecy, _either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_, but he doesn't feel fear, or even anger, but rather pity, because the prophecy is a load of bunk, really, even Albus Dumbledore had put too much importance on the prophecy - Tom Riddle is a doomed man, and his death, when it comes, will be a terrible vortex of fear and pain. He tells him, although he knows that it won't do any good, Tom is never going to understand where he went wrong, how he's created every one of his enemies, "You set too much store on the prophecy, you've killed me, yes, but you'll never be safe now. You've destroyed the last of your Horcruxes, you're mortal again and one day soon, amongst your many victims, there'll be someone – man or woman, wizard or Muggle - who'll find a way to strike back, someone who knows that there are things worth dying for."

Now the green light is fading, the moment is over, he's got nothing more to say to Tom Riddle, and it's time to go – and while it's hard to leave the three people he cares so much about, while it's very hard to leave Ginny, he knows that he can't linger, he doesn't want to leave some pale shadow of himself to walk the earth. And there are people who have been waiting for him for a long time, he doesn't want to keep them waiting any longer, and there's someone who needs him, too - so he stretches his hand down to the man kneeling at his feet, helps him up, and tells him, "It's over, time to go ..."


	3. Tom Riddle

**The next great adventure**

**Chapter 3: Tom Riddle**

He'd given permission for Nagini to hunt, so he'd been alone in that dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles – the curtains in that room are never drawn, day or night – flicking through the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_, to see what it had to say about Harry Potter, and he'd been pleased with what he'd read, the wizarding world is getting impatient with the lack of action by the Boy Who Lived, the wizarding world is getting tired of the so-called Chosen One, because Potter seems to have vanished into thin air. The Order of the Phoenix have Potter well hidden, and he still doesn't have a source of information within the Order ... when the new regime is established, any surviving members of the Order will of course receive the Kiss. And under the new regime, the _Daily Prophet_, _Witch Weekly_ and the Wizarding Wireless Network will be under his direct control, they'll be run by a new Department of the Ministry – the _Quibbler _is a rag, it will no longer be published.

The final victory is tantalisingly close now, the Ministry has been in complete disarray since the raid on Gringotts, in the very heart of Diagon Alley. The goblins have no love for wizards, but respect and fear go hand in hand and when he negotiates with Ragnok, it will be from a position of strength. And tomorrow the Hogwarts Express leaves from Platform Nine and Three-quarters, and he's going to demonstrate that Hogwarts without Dumbledore isn't safe, that there is no fortress that's safe against his Death Eaters. He'll send Severus to drag every Mudblood off the train and kill them, the half-bloods will be spared but there will be no more matings between Muggles and wizardkind ...

He'd thought, amused, that's a job that would have been right up dear departed Bella's street, if she hadn't been so foolish as to try to cast the Cruciatus Curse on my little half-blood, and Bella disappointed me too many times, she couldn't even kill Potter's Muggle family for me - and when I can spare Severus from more important tasks, I'll send him after the Muggle relatives, none of Lily Evan's blood shall escape me ...

But perhaps he won't kill Lily's son after all, every one of his Horcruxes is precious to him, they're his protection against death. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, the snake – and Harry Potter, not the Horcrux that he'd intended to make at Godric's Hollow, but still a precious vessel for a portion of his soul. And Harry Potter doesn't seem to be any real danger, in a way Potter has been something of a disappointment to him, Potter hasn't manifested any extraordinary magical power - the boy has survived this long through sheer luck and more talented friends, his _crucio_ in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic was pitiful, and Potter didn't even attempt the Killing Curse against Severus! So maybe he won't kill Harry Potter, maybe he'll keep his Horcrux alive in some secret place, dosed with the Draught of Living Death - because he's already lost one of his other Horcruxes.

And he still feels anger when he thinks of the diary, Lucius Malfoy had destroyed something that was precious to his master, and he'd decided then and there that the punishment would fit the crime, he'd destroy something precious to Malfoy – his only son and heir - and young Malfoy had been no loss, he hadn't the nerve or the ability for the Unforgiveable Curses. Still, the boy had been clever, clever enough to find a way to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts - and he'd enjoyed again the memory of what had happened on the Astronomy Tower that he'd seen in Severus' mind, the old fool begging for his life, _Severus, please_ ...

According to Severus, Dumbledore had said once, _to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure_, but Dumbledore had still begged for his life, and if there could be anything more satisfying than killing the Muggle-loving old fool personally, it was knowing that Dumbledore had died at the hands of a man he trusted. He'd thought, did Dumbledore really think that he'd tamed my hawk? That savage creature is tame to my hand alone, I thought once that he'd left me for ever, but I was wrong, because only I can offer him so much scope for his powers and his pleasures ... and Severus can never betray me now, the Aurors and the Order will never deal with the killer of Albus Dumbledore.

And then he'd thought, generously, I owe Dumbledore something, because Dumbledore taught me that the wizarding world is just like the Muggle world, it's all about power, the power to inspire _fear_ ... and Dumbledore showed me real power, he showed me what you can do with a wand.

He'd been frightened when the tall man with the auburn beard had made his wardrobe burst into flames, but his fear had been nothing compared with his determination to possess such power for himself, and the school the man had mentioned, Hogwarts, that was the way to get such power. And Dumbledore had been easy enough to fool, Dumbledore had been concerned about him - when Dumbledore had said, _best not to roam the corridors these days_, he'd had to struggle not to laugh out loud. Him, the Heir of Slytherin! Afraid to walk the corridors of Slytherin's own school!

And then he'd heard the shouts and screams, and felt the discharges of aggressive magic - for a moment he'd felt fear, have the Aurors found him? He can't die, but he could lose his body again, and he well remembers the pain of being torn from his flesh, of becoming a creature of shadow and vapour ... but it would take greater wizards than the likes of Shacklebolt or Dawlish to break through the barrier that protects the building, no one who doesn't bear the Dark Mark can pass that barrier.

He'd stormed into the anteroom, stumbled over Greyback's dead body stretched on the floor, seen Severus with his wand raised – for a moment he'd thought it was nothing more serious than a private grudge, and he'd been furious, favourite or no favourite, Severus will get a beating for this!

And then he'd seen Nagini, and howled with anguish - his beloved Nagini, more loyal than any phoenix, _dead_, and there were other bodies scattered around the anteroom ... what in hell was going on? He'd disarmed Severus with a flick of his wand, demanded an explanation, although he'd been so enraged that he could barely speak, and Avery had cringed and babbled something about Snape going mad.

He could hardly believe that the half-blood he'd raised from the gutter had turned against him, it made no sense at all, and no one who bears his Mark can raise hand or wand against him ... but when he'd looked into those defiant black eyes he'd seen that it was true, the tool he'd fashioned has turned in his own hand and cut him, his trusted favourite has betrayed him - and his first impulse had been to have Crabbe and Goyle beat the traitor to a pulp, Muggle-fashion, because sometimes _crucio_ just doesn't hurt enough ...

But he'd restrained his rage, he needed to question Snape – and while he took care not to damage his servants, it didn't matter if Snape was a gibbering idiot by the time he'd raked through his mind – Snape was food for the Dementors or a werewolf, if he could wait until full moon to kill the faithless creature.

But Snape isn't even trying to guard his mind, he's offering up the memory of Sybill Trelawney's harsh, hoarse tones, _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..._

Now he's panicking, this is terrifying news, if he'd only known the full prophecy he would never have toyed with Potter in the graveyard at Little Hangleton, or wasted the last year playing mind-games with Dumbledore ...

_The Dark Lord will mark him as an equal_, he knows what that means, the lightning-shaped scar on Potter's forehead, and he's got to kill Potter as soon as he can, before Potter discovers the power the Dark Lord knows not - and he can't even begin to imagine what that could be - because _either must die at the hand of the other_ ...

And Snape is in league with Potter, he's taken Potter as his new master – though why Snape has done so isn't important right now - and now Snape is showing him something else, the white dome of the reactor containment building at Sizewell B, and he knows what that is, he knows very well that the Muggles wield a power that can destroy magic itself, and there is no end to Snape's treachery, Potter has the locket and the cup ...

But Snape has blundered, he can use this information - and he can use Snape to get close to Potter, and without risking his precious new body. He steps into Snape's body, focuses on that white dome – _Destination, Determination, Deliberation_ – feels the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a thick rubber tube, and now he can hear the wail of sirens, he can see a little group of four people, and there is the one he seeks, the teenage boy with the messy black hair and glasses.

He strides up to the group, throws Snape's body down on its knees, the very picture of an obedient servant reporting to his master, but even as he's sliding to his knees, he plunges his hand into his robes and pulls out his wand. The wand is pointed at Potter's forehead, straight between the eyes, straight at the scar, but the red-haired girl is rushing forward, trying to get between them, he won't get a clear shot now, but unbelievably Potter isn't reaching for his wand – Potter is pushing the girl away, even as he casts the _Avada Kedavra_ and the green light bursts from the wand in his hand.

Now there's another flash of green light, he abandons Snape's body just in time, the whole world has turned green, and he knows that time has stopped, not just slowed down, and he's _alive_, he's _won_ ... it's Potter and Snape who are dead, it's Potter and Snape who are going to vanish into the darkness, into the abyss, into the nothingness of death.

But his enemies haven't gone yet, they're lingering in this brief moment between life and death, and Potter is saying something nonsensical about being glad that he hadn't used the Killing Curse – and he seizes this last chance to triumph over Potter, because Potter hadn't learned anything since they first met in the dungeons of Hogwarts, Potter was too weak to seize power when it was offered to him, and now that the prophecy has been fulfilled nothing stands between Lord Voldemort and mastery of the whole of the wizarding world. And once he controls the Ministry, once he has access to the secrets of the Department of Mysteries, he'll find a way to achieve immortal life, a body that will live forever, or a series of bodies, there must be some way to achieve immortality ...

Now Potter is saying something else, telling him that he sets too much store on the prophecy, telling him that he'll never be safe because he's destroyed the last of his Horcruxes – and the green light is fading, he can't stay any longer, he needs to flee back to his own body. And while this can't be true, he still has one last Horcrux, the ring with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone, he still feels an eviscerating fear, because why would a dead man lie to him?

_Note: for the purposes of this story, I've assumed that Voldemort can't split his soul into more than seven parts. Whether this is supported by canon we won't know until Book 7 is published, but although Voldemort knows that the diary has been destroyed, he doesn't appear to have made any attempt to replace it. _


End file.
